Consequences
by Foxbear
Summary: For every action there is a consequence. What happens when war leads to good mechs preforming horrific deeds?
1. Innocence

**Innocence **

**A Transformers Prime Fanfiction**

**Set after "Evolution" **

**::Warning SPOILIERS::**

_Primus. Oh Primus; what have I done? _

"Is your hand bothering you Commander? Should I get Ratchet?"

The small voice piped up at his side sending a fresh searing stab of pain through the aching spark. The mighty Autobot turned his helm and stared searchingly down at the smallest of the humans who perched on the side of the medical berth. There was something in his silver faceplates for a moment; a look of pure agony as he studied the child. Then it was gone; smoothed over into the impassive mask of the perfect soldier. But in that brief moment what he had glimpsed terrified Rafael.

"No Mr. Esquivel. I do not need to see the medic. While my damaged appendage does give me some small pain it is insignificant."

"Oh, I see, I'll be going then," the boy stuttered as he backed away nervously.

His obvious fear and discomfort lanced through the mech.

_What am I becoming that I terrify younglings by my presence?...Killer… What have I done? … Murderer…Primus what-_

His good hand clenched spasmodically; servos digging into his palmplate until they left dents and his helm dropped as his optics offlined as a wave of shame and guilt threatened to send him into the welcoming blackness and oblivion of stasis lock. The damaged hand on the opposite side tried to mimic the move but only twitched painfully and gars and articulating cables tugged on damaged mesh and components that were no longer there.

"Commander!"

The urgency in the tone snapped through Ultra Magnus like a whip.

"Prime!" he came instantly alert sitting up with some effort to face the leader of the Autobots.

"At ease old friend," Optimus stated gently reaching out to take up the damaged appendage. "You are leaking."

"I, I must have strained the new welds. My apologies. I will report the damage to Ratchet immediately," the mech stated quickly trying to pull his missing hand away from the Prime.

The larger red and blue form released his injury easily enough but the black servos came to rest on the Second-in-command's shoulder guards.

"Our medic has gone with Nurse Darby to acquire more needed supplies. Come. I may not be Ratchet but I am somewhat capable with a line welder."

Seeing no way to avoid the issue the commander nodded and held out the injury dutifully to Optimus and sat mutely as the Prime gently took the end of his arm and began applying the line welder to the damaged energon lines.

"Ratchet will soon have a replacement ready for you," he offered. "It will not perhaps be what you are used to but it will be functional."

"I appreciate what the Doctor does for the unit," Ultra Magnus replied in a clipped voice refusing to look into the cerulean optics.

Fairly quickly Opimus wrapped up his ministrations and set aside the device. The commander thanked him and lowered himself back to the berth with what dignity he could muster in such a compromised position. To his surprise however the Prime did not leave. Ultra Magnus felt a hand on his shoulder struts and the soft teaking of a field against his.

"Old friend," the Prime began lacing the words through with glyphs offering to listen to whatever the mech had to get off his chestplates.

The smaller mech turned his helm stiffly away from him, dislodging the gentle touch.

"Prime-" his voice was low and even as he stared at the primitive steel beams in the ceiling above them; trying to maintain the barriers of order and habit that were keeping him from breaking down.

He was dreading this conversation, had been dreading it from the moment Predaking had spoken and the horrific realization of what he had condoned, what he had done, had struck him far harder than any of the clone's blows. He heard a tired sigh behind him.

"Ultra Magnus," Optimus began again, stepping around to face his second the glyphs subtly changing form, not quite commanding, not yet.

The commander forced his optics up past the robust chassis and to the painfully compassionate gaze. He knew there would be no condemnation in those optics, dreaded the forgiveness he would see there, forgiveness that he did not deserve.

"The crime I committed my Prime," he stated harshly before the other had a chance to speak. "It is unforgivable. What can there be said to separate the Autobots from the Decepticons if there is no difference in the actions of their leaders?"

Optimus's optics hardened marginally as he shook his helm.

"You acted in ignorance. Given the situation, with all of humanity in danger, I would no doubt have issued the same order. That is a far cry from Megatron's deliberate targeting of the young."

"Sparklings!" the commander stated flatly clenching his servos again, making the new welds tense painfully. "They were sparklings!" He drew in a controled vent of air and stared directly into his leader's optics. "Fully sentient, sparked, Cybertronian life, innocent of any wrongdoing and I. Killed. Them. There is nothing that can be said or done to negate that fact Optimus. When Predaking spoke… I knew…but it was too late," that horrific moment played over and over in his processor; the thunderous roar and boom that was the only requiem the innocents would have. "Yes I was ignorant. But it remains that I gave the order to terminate them."

The leader of the Autobots gave a weary exvent and extended his field, carefully teaking the other, feeling Ultra Magnus's field respond, pressing against his; the only sign of the internal agony, guilt, and need for companionship that was burning behind the stoic faceplates. Optimus knew well that there was nothing he could say. The commander had made the best decision he could given the circumstances, and a tragedy had resulted. Thinking them to be mere beasts he had ordered the deaths of innocent sparklings.

The Prime extended his field, offering what he could; companionship, understanding. He accompanied the teaking with glyphs indicating his willingness to listen whenever the smaller mech needed to speak of it. The Commander's red and blue frame did not relax, his faceplates gave nothing away, but his energy against Optimus's raged with shame and pain; accepting the offered presence. But soon Ultra Magnus's field retreated and was pulled tightly to his frame. He nodded stiffly and sent a quick glyph of thanks before very deliberately linking his processor remotely to the computer to complete some task. Optimus turned and walked away knowing that his presence would no longer be welcome.

War, the death of innocence, the cost of battle. The commander mused as he turned his attention from the computer to the human's area once Optimus had stepped out of the hanger. It could be counted in sparks. The sparks of countless young lost to evil mechanizations and ignorance both, and those that slowly had their sparks eaten away because of deeds forced on them by circumstances beyond their control. The sound of laughter and subdued screams interrupted his thoughts and he glanced over at the sound. In the far corner of the base, half hidden by a stack of crates Smokescreen was lying on his back as the three human children climbed over him wielding something they called laundry markers. The four were laughing and squealing and urging each other to be quiet as they mock struggled.

Innocence. Ultra Magnus's optics lingered on the one called Jack for a moment as he heaved himself up into a sitting position to get a better look. Lost sparklings. He wondered for a moment what would have become of the Predacon young, had they been given a chance to imprint and grow in a peaceful environment. Would they have so eagerly scrambled over their brother's frame? Would Predaking have tolerated, welcomed their attentions? Would they have made such sounds of joy and competition as they played? Or would Shockwave's manipulations have left them as warriors only, devoid of gentler sentiments. Because of his choices they would never know.

His attention was noticed by the eldest native and Jack jumped off of the young Elite Guardsmech with a startled yelp. He snapped to attention and crisply called out the commander's name remembering to add the sir as perfectly as any first cycle cadet. Within moment the image of youthful innocence and camaraderie was shattered as the children and Smokescreen scrambled to their feet and the yellow and blue mech attempted to cover the drawings that adorned his mesh while still standing at attention. A new pang of regret rippled through his already tender spark as Ultra Magnus observed the change from playful enjoyment to apprehension.

"Continue as you were," he said quickly. "I did not mean to interrupt."

With that he lay back and shuttered his optics. He heard the surprised muttering of the children and the youngest Cybertronian. Heard their decision to end the games and wash off the yellow and blue mech. But even with the more productive activity the sounds of mirth soon returned, this time accompanied by splashing water and squeals of protest.

Innocence, something worth preserving, worth fighting for. That had been one of his main goals from the beginning of the war; to protect that rare and precious commodity. That would be, must be, what kept him going. But superimposed over the sounds of laughter and the sight of Smokescreen playfully tussling with the children as they washed him was the image of the Predacon sparklings struggling in terrified ignorance as the yellow fluid drained out of the only world they had ever known and lightning danced viciously over their helms.

Innocence.


	2. Lines

**Lines**

**A Transformers Prime Fanfiction**

**Set During Evolution**

**::Warning Spoilers::**

"I don't want to talk about it kid," Wheeljack growled out as his blue gaze seared into the human standing at his peds with a faltering smile on his fleshy face.

"Scram," the wrecker put as much venom into the one word as he could; leaning down and revving his engine low and dangerously at the raven haired youth staring up at him.

He was pretty sure the Prime had sic'd the little pest on him. It might just be like Ratchet said and Jack really was a younger copy of Optimus and could sense a breaking spark no matter what front you put up but it irked the mech that a human could be that perceptive and the thought that it was the Prime's doing was much more palatable. Reluctantly the human turned away with a promise that he would always be handy to listen. The soldier gave a long exvent and dropped his helm back into his crossed arms. On second thought maybe Optimus didn't have anything to do with this. After the stories Bulkhead and Miko had shared about Jack, what he had been through already, it would be cruel as the pit to lay this on him too. The Wrecker shook off the train of thought with a growl of his engine.

Ratchet and the Prime were tending to the badly injured Ultra Magnus. Arcee and the human nurse had given the Wrecker what first aid he had needed. Somewhat to his surprise the Darby femme had been pretty scrapping good at what she did. The oddity of that had almost distracted him for a moment but then the gnawing discomfort had returned with full force. Arcee and Bulkhead were off in another hanger refining the energon they had collected; the only bright spot in this mess. Bumblebee and the rookie had been sent out to scout the area around the human's military base for any threats. He had found a dark corner of the hanger and for now he was blessedly alone.

"Hey Jackie, what's shakin'?"

So much for alone. A soft little hand pressed against his bruised mesh sending the double tempo pulse of a human heart beating into his systems. The mech suppressed a groan and lifted his optics fractionally to glare at the miniscule femme. Two honey-golden eyes stared back at him defiantly and he flinched away under her gaze. He did not want to deal with her at the moment.

"Not now Miko."

"Really?" she snorted. "Listen up mech. I want to know what happened and the big Bots are all busy. So spill! Mags lost a hand and you are all twitchy-"

"I am not twitchy!" Wheeljack snarled pushing her off of him.

The rhythm of her pulse seemed to be driving into his processor. She was so alive, so young, so…not guilty in all this mess. He knew what she wanted, didn't want to give it to her. The kid shouldn't have to bear up under something like this; shouldn't have to share in the Wreckers' guilt. Not yet. Not ever.

"Jackie…" she whined as she scrambled right back onto him. "What happened?"

"Nothing you need to know about!"

"Come on! Tell me! Something has you all worked up and feeling down! But you won!"

"You don't want to know kid," he snapped standing, unable to stand the feel of her against him any longer.

The silence behind him should have been a warning to Wheeljack as he walked slowly away.

"So Jackie," her voice was soft and cloyingly sweet, "how long have you been such a good liar?"

The mech spun on her furiously, straining his new repairs.

"What did you say?" he growled.

"Do Wreckers keep things from each other?" the human demanded.

"Of course not!"

"Am I a Wrecker or not?"

The final question whipped through the narrow space like a bullet. Wheeljack snapped his dentia shut and stared blankly at the girl.

"You said I was a Wrecker!" she hissed stalking forward. "Did you really mean it? Or were you just humoring the little girl?"

The warrior's shoulder guards slumped in defeat and he eased himself down to a sitting position as the pain in his damaged legs resurged.

"You're a Wrecker," he conceded rubbing his servos over his faceplates.

"Then quit being such a glitch and tell me!"

"Fine!" he snapped out. "You want to know what happened? You want to know what we did? We ended the Predacon clone threat for this round!"

The girl let out an excited cry and scrambled up onto his lap to perch crouched on his thigh armor. The plating there was thick, but not so thick he couldn't feel her heartbeat. Once more it began to pound into him.

"How many were there? How big were they? Did they put up a good fight-of course they were just beast-cons but the dragon thing was scrappy! It must have been a great win for Team Prime!"

"There were about a dozen," he growled, cutting into her monolog. "They weren't very big, hadn't finished growing in the vats Shockwave had them in but he was all set to let them out soon enough."

He heard her go quiet, felt her heart rate suddenly pick up. She understood the implications of that but there was a forced smile still on her face. He was going to destroy that smile he knew, break something inside of her, didn't want to, but she had demanded the truth, and a Wrecker deserved it.

"I lobbed a grenade at the set up and we got out of there. We were tearing down the cave when a groundbridge opened up and this big ugly mech stepped out. Introduced himself and proceeded to kick our afts."

He could pick up the subtle chemicals in the air now, the ones organics gave off when they were stressed.

"They weren't beasts Miko," no more beating around the bush, no softening the blow. "Predaking spoke to us while we were fleeing the blast wave-"

"No," she whispered.

That little organic pump inside of her was going wild now; twice what it should be.

"-The one that destroyed the Predacon sparklings."

"No, that can't be right," she shook her head frantically.

"Wreckers don't lie kid; not to each other, not to ourselves. You wanted to know."

"I-you-they," she whispered doubling over with an arm around her middle as if her internals were suddenly paining her. "They were just sparklings?"

"Yup."

She mercifully hopped off his leg, staggering a few steps away and taking her bio-signs with her. Miko hugged herself and shivered, not looking up at the larger Wrecker. He turned from her with a grunt and glared at the wall. At least that would shut her up- A soft touch on his pedd and the warm little bundle was in his lap again, her hands pressing into his chestplating and golden eye staring pleadingly up at him.

"But, it's not like you knew?" she whispered. "You didn't mean to, right?"

Wheeljack leaned back with a snarl.

"Not the point kid. Never the point."

"Then what is the point?" she demanded.

For a long drawn out moment The Autobot just stared at her. The silence went on for so long she began to shift uncomfortable. One great hand came up and closed gently around her.

"Stop fidgeting."

She stopped, thank Primus, and settled down on her aft with her arms wrapped around her knees. Without letting her go the Wrecker drew in a long vent.

"What's the difference between an Autobot and a Decepticon Miko?"

She blinked, surprised at the question and could only point up at the red shield on his armor.

"Yeah, but what does it stand for? Back at the start of the war the Prime spelled it all out; honor, loyalty, compassion. So everyone would know what an Autobot was. There were things Autobot's just didn't do and that code laid them out plain. A whole pretty set of rules, ideals. Some of them were pretty obvious but some just made no sense in war. A mech had to be practical if we were going to come out on top. So we shaved the corners off the rule book so to speak; all for the greater good. We could do things, would do things, other Autobots wouldn't."

A moment of silence stretched between them and he could have sworn he heard the gears turning in her processor.

"So what's the difference between a Wrecker and a Decepticon?" she asked as if the question had left a bitter taste in her mouth.

"We had lines we never crossed Miko. There were certain things we never did, and we never killed sparklings. We never offlined a Guardian still bound to his sparkling. There were others, but that was the big one."

The quiet crept in again and he felt the human in his hands shiver.

"I crossed that line today Miko," he said hoarsely. "I crossed that line and now it's gone and never coming back."

The small body leaned into his plating and a pained whimper slipped up through his servos.

"So tell me kid? What's the difference between a Wrecker and a Decepticon?"


	3. Dreams and Reality

**Dreams and Reality **

**A Transformers Prime Fanfiction**

**Set After "Evolution"**

**::WARNINGS::**

**Adult content-breast feeding-implied past rape-death of children**

**::SPOILERS::**

**SPOILERS for "Dying Embers" and "Dirty Little Secrets" **

Chaos filled Autobot Base Omega one in the form of Predaking and his two dozen brothers. Raucous roaring and a cacophony of chirps rolled over the slim Asian in waves as she watched the scene before her with a delighted smile from the battered yellow couch. With utmost care she shifted the precious bundle in her arms sighing in pleasure as impossibly soft skin pressed against her bare shoulder. Two tiny feet pressed into her thigh where they stuck out of the blue coat on the cushion beside her. Fierce growling called her attention back to the scarred concrete floor and laughter burst out of her mouth to ripple through the silo. The mighty Predacon glared up at her balefully as his nemesis eagerly chewed on the long silvery helm spikes forcing the noble head awkwardly to one side.

The one small, for a Predacon, sparkling had not lost interest in his older brother's impressive helm gear from the moment his amber optics had come online. Luckily the battle hardened warrior's hide was still marginally stronger than the newly decanted sparkling's teeth and jaws but from the occasional wince that crossed the segmented faceplates of the great Cybertronian dragon that situation would not last long. The human smiled in sympathy.

Predaking sprawled out claiming the majority of the floor for his massive length. Now, in the dark of the night with the base lighting tuned low at least half of his siblings lay curled up under the impressive wingspan and pressed gently to his side. Not sleeping Miko remembered, Cybertonian young did not sleep like hers did, but resting their rapidly growing frame struts. Her fingers drifted down to touch the still warm bundle on the couch beside her.

The remaining eleven Predacons had decided that now was the best time ever to make friends with the rest of the base sparklings and now half, the grounders, were clustered around Skyfire and Stormbreaker. The latter had eagerly accepted their newfound role as older cousins and were chattering away, blue optics blazing, explaining some critically important concept regarding the best way to make Uncle Ratchet jump. The other half, the flyers, were far more focused on the gracefully soaring Cometflare. They chased after the flickering iridescent tail flapping their undeveloped wings comically as the glider called out encouragement, eager to no longer be alone in his aerial journeys. One had discovered the advantages of using their larger brother as a launching pad and now the rest were determinedly scampering up the slate grey flanks and leaping fearlessly from the powerful shoulders. So far they had managed a few short glides, followed by frantic flapping, then a loud crash to the floor. Miko had been a bit worried at first but Predaking had simply snorted at her concerns as the sparklings shook themselves and returned their sturdy frames for another round.

The small mouth on her breast detached with a disgruntled mewl and without looking down the young woman shifted her daughter to the other side, shrugging her shirt back up to cover the emptied breast. Happily reattached the infant continued nursing and Miko sighed in relief at the feeling.

A familiar voice called out drawing her attention to the side. The lanky raven haired youth approached the swarming mass of Predacon sparklings fearlessly holding out a tray piled high with what appeared to be large cookies. Suddenly finding himself the center of attention for a stampede of over two dozen robotic children the human faltered a bit. However before even the swiftest reached him a massive tail swung out and encircled Jack protectively. Still dangling the determined sparkling by one horn Predaking interposed himself between the charging young and their goal. Once they had all stopped and were surrounding the two with pleading optics the massive mech transformed shifting the disgruntled sparkling to one hip.

"Now my brethren," he scolded them gently. "Is this how a Predacon behaves when offered a gift from a friend?"

Twenty-four little helms bowed in shame while twenty-four little sets of optics still locked on the tray Jack was holding up while trying to suppress his laughter.

"What do you say little ones?"

Taking the lead Stormbreaker skipped forward and held up her hands.

"Daddy, may I please have a cookie?"

"Yes Stormy," Jack replied with a smile handing her one of the smaller disks.

The largest Predacon sparkling lumbered up to the raven haired youth. Even in his undeveloped state he towered over the human but Jack never flinched as the razor sharp beak lowered to hover over his head.

"Uncle Jack, may I have cookie?" the low voice rumbled eagerly.

"Of course," without pause Jack handed a dinner plate sized disc into the waiting servos.

One by one the sparklings came to claim their prize, Cometflare even landed briefly on Predaking's arm to accept his, then laughed musically when the massive warrior lightly tossed him high into the air. The eldest Predacon then transformed and spread out on the floor again. His siblings and their friends, distracted by the wooden cookies settled down along his sides, accepting the wings he gently placed over them. Their brother shot Jack a grateful look as the young man climbed the steps to stand behind Miko on the raised platform.

The raven haired human leaned forward and rested his elbows on the couch behind her. One hand reached down absently to stroke the small sleeping form. A soft happy sigh came from the child bundled in his coat.

_Don't Look._

Nameless dread filled Miko as time seemed to stretch and distend.

_Don't Look! _

The voice screaming in her head was her own as the little head beneath the coat began to turn happily into Jack's caress.

"How are you doing Natuski?" he asked fondly.

_No! No! You know what will happen if you look!_

But inexorably her eyes were pulled down to look at her beautiful daughter. Just as they were every time. Like a roaring flood the realization that this could not be real surged towards her and she began to weep. Just as her eyes fell on Natsuki's little face the dream world dissolved leaving a faint impression of large honey-gold eyes and a sweet pink smile. Miko's breasts gave a spasm of pain where Hikari had been nursing and ice seemed to lance through her thigh where the little feet had touched. Deep gut wrenching emptiness filled her as she bolted upright, stiffing a scream of agony by shoving her hands into her mouth.

It took her a few seconds to reorientation herself as her chest heaved trying to draw air around the fingers balled between her teeth. Pulling her hands out and propping herself up on the hard army cot the girl took several long ragged breaths. Dim orange light filtered through the thin curtains from the parking lot the sparsely furnished room faced. The green LED on her cell blinked with a full charge at her from the side table. Throwing aside the thin green blankets Miko staggered to her feet and clutched at her pink phone.

She had never been allowed the luxury of a stuffed animal or a security blanket. The small electronic device and the freedom and status it symbolized had for some time been her only comfort; until she had decided to follow that blue motorcycle that fateful day. Now she clutched it to her chest as she crouched on the floor rocking back and forth tears dripping onto the worn carpet under her bare toes.

Sleep was not an option. Even if her throbbing heart allowed it the dreams might start up again, or might not and for the life of her she could not think which would be worse. For any other issue she would have called Bulkhead for comfort but the Wreckers were suffering enough over what they had done. If they knew what it was doing to her…The slim Asian shook her head sharply and stood shakily. She would not be the cause of any more pain for her team but still the thought of spending the rest of the night alone terrified her.

There was really only one other person she knew who would understand. Silently she slipped barefoot out onto the cracked old sidewalk. For a girl born in the big city the logically laid out base was child's play to navigate. Over in one corner, sat the rows of officers housing built in the fifties, now sitting unused for the most part; except one. Miko walked across the parched desert lawn rocks digging into her soles and paused at a bedroom window. Her hand hesitated. Why burden him with this? He had his own pains to bear but the cold loneliness in her chest drove her on and cursing her selfishness she rapped softly on the glass.

Shortly a rumpled dark head appeared from behind the curtains and her friend's face gave her an annoyed glare. The old wooden window frame was forced up with some effort and squealing in protest as Jack leaned out.

"No Miko I will not help you prank Ultra Magnus tonight," the raven haired youth grumbled. "It's bad luck to spill paint on a full moon."

"You just made that up," Miko snorted forcing a smile.

"Nope, I have it on good authority that-" Jack cut off in mid sentence staring at the girl's face in the light from his small bedside lamp.

His gaze softened and he leaned down further.

"Miko?" he asked gently holding out his hand and searching her eyes with that soul piercing look he had gotten from Optimus.

The Asian gave a sob and leaned her face into his touch.

"Dreams," she whispered through the tears.

Without another word Jack held out both of his hands and pulled her into the house he and his mother had been assigned. Despite the pain Miko had to smile through her tears as he led them out of his bedroom and to the kitchen table; always thinking about the propriety of the situation their Jack. He poured her something out of a pitcher in the refrigerator and pressed the cool glass into her hands before sliding down into the chair next to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

"You were having bad dreams?" he asked once she had downed half of the iced mint tea.

"No," Miko whispered leaning into his touch, seeking comfort.

Seeing the confusion on his face she clarified.

"Wonderful dreams," her voice caught, "horrible reality."

Still not understanding but sensing her inner turmoil Jack began gently circling his hand on her back.

"I dreamed of Natsuki and Hikari," she continued clenching the glass, "and Stormbreaker and Skyfire and Cometflare," she didn't look up, couldn't stand to see the pain she was causing him but ploughed on. "We were all in the old base together. You were making those hickory wood cookies for the kids. I was," a harsh sob wracked her body as the words tried to get out, "I was nursing Hikari and Natsuki was napping. You had wrapped her in your coat because it was cold and, and your sparklings were playing with the Predacon and his little brothers on the base floor. They were having so much fun. It was so real."

She reached up absently to touch her nipple where she could still feel the ghost contact of her little one.

"It felt so real," she continued tears streaming down her face, "and then I woke up, and they are all dead," her voice rose to a shriek and she forced her fist into her mouth determined not to wake the hardworking nurse.

Jack gently but firmly pried her hand out from between her teeth and carefully examined the marks on her skin. Satisfied that he saw no blood he got up and returned with a tin of slave. Miko sat still while he carefully massaged the soothing ointment into her hand.

"I could hate Guntar for what happened to my daughters," the girl continued when he was finished wrapping gauze around the damage, "and I could hate Starscream for what happened to your sparklings, but the Predacon little ones? They were just as innocent as Hikari and we Wreckers did that to them. I just, I just, I don't know. All I know is that I haven't slept through the night since Wheeljack told me."

This is what she liked best about Jack she decided as warm arms encircled her and pulled her close. He not only knew what to say. He knew when to just shut up. She didn't know how long he held her silently like that but when her eyes flickered open again bright desert morning light was spilling through the kitchen window and the smell of frying tofu filled the room. Stiffly the girl pushed herself up and realized with a grimace that she had spent the better part of the night sprawled across two chairs with her head in Jack's lap. The raven haired youth himself was shifting and blinking blurrily from his seat on the kitchen chair. Had he even slept at all? Miko knew she should feel guilty but a night without dreams shattering her heart in the morning was too rare a gift to pass up these days.


End file.
